being human
by Linzerj
Summary: Drabble series based on a list called "Rules for Being Human." Because, after all, underneath the magical mask Randy Cunningham is still human.
1. you will receive a body

Hello, RC9GN fandom. I'm just now venturing into this realm (read: I got obsessed and watched the whole series in a day), but upon discovering how few stories there are compared to some of my other fandoms like Danny Phantom and Teen Titans I felt the need to contribute something.

I originally used this idea in a Danny Phantom story by the same name, exploring the personalities and obsessions of the ghosts of the show. This time, I'm still just writing little drabbles, but most if not all focus on Randy instead of different people for each one. If anyone is interested in looking ahead the full list of rules is one of the first things on my (ridiculously long) profile. Updates may be sporadic as I'm going to go in order in regards to posting but I'm writing them out of order. Also, I blame school.

Randy Cunningham: Ninth Grade Ninja belongs to Disney and all other associated higher-ups. I'm just a kid playing in their sandbox.

* * *

**_rules for being human_****_: by an anonymous source_**

_1. you will receive a body. you may like it or hate it, but it will be yours for the entire period this time around._

People often questioned his hair color. "Is it natural?" "What dye did you use?" "No way that's natural, dude, that's so weird!"

Randy just shrugged it off. He knew it was his natural hair color. He knew it was weird. He didn't personally care. It made him unique, different, and he was proud of it.

He was the freshman with the purple hair and the blue eyes who was pretty tall for his age. It didn't seem to matter, really. It was just how he turned out. Genetics and whatnot could explain it all away.

Randy liked being tall because he could easily reach things others could not. Randy liked his purple hair because it gave him a unique personality. He didn't mind having long legs, really, because he could take longer strides even when not going his top speed.

It used to be, though, that Randy hated being _lanky_ because he would trip over his own limbs and he wasn't as strong as he could be despite some effort to build muscle. His laziness probably didn't help, but he was more active than his friend Howard and he _did_ try so that counted for something, right?

But now he was the Ninja, and lanky turned into lean and he found that either way, it suited him. And no matter what, this was the body he was stuck with so he might as well get used to it and make the most of what he's got.


	2. full time informal school called life

Thanks for the favorites, reviews, follows, and all-around warm welcome to the fandom. Here's the next chapter!

Randy Cunningham: Ninth Grade Ninja belongs to Disney and all other associated higher-ups. I'm just a kid playing in their sandbox.

* * *

_2. you will learn lessons. you are enrolled in a full time informal school called life. each day in this school you will have the opportunity to learn lessons. you may like the lessons or think them irrelevant and stupid._

The Nomicon was like a second school, Randy discovered. It was kind of annoying in some regards. He already had enough to deal with at regular school; he wasn't really up for another.

But that's what it was. The Nomicon threw lessons at him daily, making him struggle to find the meaning of its riddles while saving the world _and_ being a normal high school freshman.

The comic books made this stuff look so easy.

And he feels like the Nomicon would slap him constantly if it could. He skirted around a lot of the lessons until something major happened, something that warranted his immediate attention and his completing the lesson. The mundane tasks seemed stupid, yet the ancient book would flash at him or shut him out if he insulted it or refused to acknowledge the lesson.

Sure, there were some things he enjoyed learning. The Air Fist had been a cool skill to master (despite the whole "release the chicken" thing), and the Earth Attack had been mastered quickly – though he rarely used it, he'd learned _that_ lesson the hard way. The Tengu Fireball was probably his favorite of all of them, because it was unique to his time as the Ninja despite the limits it had and the hard lessons that often accompanied his training sessions with it. And he got most of the lessons in the end, he really did; those that he did not quickly catch onto were the ones that he found annoying.

As he rolled into his second year of being the Ninja, Randy finally caught on with what the Nomicon was doing in order to train him. It was giving him _life lessons_ to master, _life lessons_ to embody what the Ninja must do to protect the town.

_Life is full of lessons_, the Nomicon told him. _The Ninja must be open to learning them all._

It was after that when Randy began to appreciate the Nomicon more than ever. It was not only the guidebook to being a great Ninja, but it was also like a cheat sheet for conquering all of the lessons life continually threw his way.

After all, there is no ending bell in the school of life.


	3. there are no mistakes

Before I begin: I love Viceroy's character. He's worked with the Ninja before despite trying to destroy him on a daily basis. Really, his character could be oh so very interesting if fleshed out.

Randy Cunningham: Ninth Grade Ninja belongs to Disney and all other associated higher-ups. I'm just a kid playing in their sandbox.

* * *

_3. there are no mistakes, only lessons. growth is a process of trial and error, experimentation. the "failed" experiments are as much a part of the process as the experiments that ultimately work._

"Why do you keep me around anyway? I keep failing; you could easily mind wipe me and find a replacement Ninja." Randy sighed, sinking onto a rock within the Nomicon's pages. "I don't deserve this."

The Nomicon hummed around him, glowing brightly as if to soothe his self-loathing. Randy chuckled, albeit darkly.

"If you hadn't already taught me about balance and whatever, I would be following every word you say right about now, Nomicon. I've been making so many mistakes trying to do what I think is right."

The Nomicon probably would have snapped at him right about now, if it could. It made do by flashing ominously around him. Randy glared at the infinite pages.

"TELL ME HOW TO AVOID MISTAKES! PLEASE!"

The Nomicon flashed again, and hastily words were scrawled out in front of the teenager. _If you never fail you never succeed._

"What the juice is that supposed to mean?"

The Nomicon didn't even dignify him with a response; instead, it forced him out of the book and back into his body. In the material world, Randy watched as the Nomicon snapped shut and glowed brightly at him once, twice, three times.

"Did I make you angry?" A glow. "Well, sorry, I guess. I still can't decipher your lessons so easily – which is why _you_ shouldn't have chosen **me!**"

The Nomicon glowed again, softer, as if gently scolding a child crying over nothing. Then it fell silent in Randy's hands, and the teenager let out a frustrated groan.

"But failure stinks," he muttered to himself. "I don't care what you say. I don't want to fail."

(The Nomicon, had it been human, would have chuckled at this. It most certainly did not make a mistake in choosing Randy Cunningham.)

…

Willem Viceroy was not, per say, evil. Granted, he worked for an evil megalomaniac, but when one is a certified mad scientist those are about the only jobs one can find.

He still isn't sure how he got talked into doing this, either. All he knows is that for the rest of the day, he has to substitute for a sick Marlene Driscoll. This includes helping high school teenagers understand basic science and _not_ cause any major explosions.

Key word: major.

But anyway, he wasn't just doing this because he loved kids – to the contrary, he could care less either way. No, he was also here because this was his chance to figure out who the Ninja of Norrisville really was.

There was one boy – Howard Weinerman, if his memory was correct (which it always was) – who hung around the Ninja a lot. Find Weinerman, find the Ninja.

Of course, that was easier said than done.

Most of the class the red-haired boy was talking to a boy with odd purple hair, named Randy Cunningham. Said purple-haired kid was bummed out about something – what, specifically, Viceroy could care less about – and while the kid certainly had a matching height and physique, he just didn't scream…Ninja.

So Viceroy investigated.

Cunningham was grumbling about something as he approached, and right away Viceroy noticed their lab experiment had gone…not according to procedure. The inside of their beaker contained a sticky, disgusting-looking green mess, and Weinerman was glaring at his friend.

"So just stop messing up, then," Weinerman was saying. "Then maybe stuff like this wouldn't happen."

"The blame can't be pinned on just one of you," Viceroy injected, causing the boys to yelp and spin around to stare at him. The scientist continued as if uninterrupted. "Experiments fail sometimes. Mistakes are made in the procedure, or you got a material wrong. It happens, even to the best of us. You learn from it and move on."

Cunningham was staring up at Viceroy now, eyes wide even as Weinerman continued on with cleaning up the mess of their lab station. "Wow. Uh – thanks, Mr. Viceroy. You don't know…you don't know how helpful that advice is."

Viceroy raised an eyebrow, somewhat confused, but he shrugged, said "No problem," and moved on. The kid might or might not be the Ninja, but at least he had helped brighten Cunningham's day.


	4. on to the next lesson

Thank you, thank you so much for all this support you guys you don't even know how much I smile and giggle and internally scream in joy every time I read a review.

...Also sorry for this one, it started on a _completely_ different note than what it turned into and I don't know, I just sort of rolled with it...so here you go.

Randy Cunningham: Ninth Grade Ninja belongs to Disney and all other associated higher-ups. I'm just a kid playing in their sandbox.

* * *

_4. a lesson is repeated until it is learned. a lesson will be presented to you in various forms until you have learned it. when you have learned it, you can go on to the next lesson._

The Nomicon, had it been human, would have either sighed in dismay or punched its current pupil.

Randy Cunningham was strong, determined, and pure of heart, but he had certainly not been chosen for his intelligence. When applied the boy was incredibly smart and talented, but his laziness and refusal to use his mind and actually _think_ often disgruntled the Nomicon. Its riddles were not meant to be straightforward but they were still somewhat easy to understand; yet half of the time Randy managed to either misinterpret the Nomicon's words or else not understand what he was supposed to be learning until the last possible moment.

The NomiRandy incident, as its pupil says, was a perfect example. No matter how often the Nomicon had replayed the same message – _A ninja without balance will fall_ – Randy still couldn't grasp what he was supposed to be learning. The Nomicon had to take measures into its own figurative hands, and while the outcome could have been much more disastrous, Randy finally managed to figure out what he needed to know.

Maybe it needed to keep changing its mode of teaching Randy, especially if an initial message did not do the proper job. (And, really, when did it ever?)

…

Randy glared at the writing in the sky of the Nomicon's pages, once again repeating the same message it had yesterday…and the day before that...and the day before that...

It was getting old, really. The message popped up everywhere convenient, and yet whenever he looked for trouble or for _what this could possibly mean_ he turned up with nothing. Howard suggested he was overreacting, but Randy wasn't too sure. He was missing something with this lesson.

_A ninja never lets his guard down, for attacks will come when he least expects them._ That was the lesson of the _week_, it seemed, for the Nomicon was unrelenting in repeating it. But he had already learned something so similar when the Nomicon told him _A ninja who looks the other way fails to see the attack_, so why was it even bothering?

Alright, so maybe he _was_ overreacting with this one. He had been slacking off a bit, sure, because there had only been two stankings and one robot attack this week and they had been extremely easy to take care of compared to normal, but the message was starting to make him a bit _paranoid_ and he wasn't okay with that. Heck, after Bash dumped mashed potatoes on him during lunch Wednesday he'd been on his guard as much as possible, flinching at every little thing. What was he supposed to be learning from this? He was on his guard, it wasn't like he wasn't watching for danger-

Oh.

Of course.

He actually starts doing his homework, and the biggest possible robot army appears – and the terror gets a kid stanked, too.

Maybe he should start paying more attention after all.

(Vaguely he wondered if the Nomicon somehow planned this, or if it was able to see the future. The mere thought of it made him dislike the book even more.

(…The Nomicon _was_ pretty useful though and besides Howard the only person – thing – he could go to with Ninja-related problems so maybe he should stop complaining already and just start _learning the lessons_. After all, as the Ninja he needed to learn as much as possible for his final battle with the Sorcerer and whatnot.

(But really, the Nomicon could be a little bit clearer in what the lesson is so he stops shoobing it up and moves on already.)


	5. if you are alive

A bit shorter, and also **very** drabble-y and sort of disconnected, but I still hope you enjoy.

Randy Cunningham: Ninth Grade Ninja belongs to Disney and all other associated higher-ups. I'm just a kid playing in their sandbox.

* * *

_5. learning lessons does not end. there is no part of life that does not contain its lessons. if you are alive then there are lessons to be learned._

Sometimes Randy hates being the Ninja. He comes home with cuts and bruises he has to explain away, missing curfew some nights and other nights barely making it by the skin of his teeth. Then he has to sit down and do as much of his homework as possible, if he didn't complete it during study hall or in the usual half-hour to two-hour break between school and a daily McFist attack, before visiting the Nomicon once more before promptly falling asleep at midnight. (Weekends are usually better, but they're still more hectic than he'd like.)

At least the nighttime Nomicon sessions are more peaceful. After school (or sometimes during school, depending on his mood, the class, and whether or not the Nomicon is okay with it) he has the physical lessons, learning new maneuvers and doing training exercises like climbing the waterfall and perfecting favorite moves such as the Air Fist and Tengu Fireball. Before bed the Nomicon usually has him meditate for about a half an hour to clear his head and prepare for the next day. He is also to think about whatever lesson he was taught from any emergency visits required when dealing with monster attacks. Those were getting less frequent as he neared the end of freshman year, but he knew he was nowhere near a fully trained ninja yet.

Some days, he doubted it was even worth it. He would just forget this at the end of his time as the Ninja; why should the life lessons matter so much?

He voiced his concerns to the Nomicon one night, and received only another cryptic response.

_You are still alive. The lessons of life continue as long as you do._

Alright, so it probably wasn't as cryptic as he was making it out to be, but it wasn't exactly encouraging either. Randy supposed that in a way it was meant to be encouraging; he was alive, and so the Nomicon would continue teaching him. He didn't initially see what that had to do with forgetting it all later.

Eventually he would figure it out. After a year or two the message would flash again, since having been stored to the back of the purple-haired teen's mind, and he would have a sudden revelation that even _after_ high school, after being the Ninja, life would keep hitting him with lessons.

He just wouldn't have the Nomicon to help him out.

That scared him, he discovered. The Nomicon, despite being a book, had _personality_, a mind of its own, and…and Randy would consider it – him? her? – a friend in a heartbeat.

He supposed that was another life lesson – sometimes you just have to let go.


	6. here versus there

As always, thank you to all the many wonderful reviewers and readers of this story! I hope I don't disappoint you at all.

Many characters and very introspective. On a slightly off note, some of this was inspired by a picture entitled "Some nights..." by foxyelie on deviantART. It's a lovely piece, and also gave me the idea that the song "Some Nights" by Fun could be used as a Randy Cunningham song. But I digress.

Randy Cunningham: Ninth Grade Ninja belongs to Disney and all other associated higher-ups. I'm just a kid playing in their sandbox.

* * *

_6. THERE is no better than HERE. when your THERE has become a HERE, you will simply obtain another THERE that will again look better than HERE._

Howard wonders, sometimes.

He looks over at his best friend, Randy Cunningham, fellow ninth-grader and current Ninja of Norrisville. He squirms a little in his seat, glances back at the teacher and _hates_ that he has to actively suppress his jealousy at some moments.

When he first found out he was ecstatic – glad, even – because **Randy** deserved it. **Randy** was the better half of their duo, he knew. **Randy** was the one who could – had to – handle all the struggles this life came with.

But it also, at times, stunk, because Randy got all the attention and Randy got all the cool equipment and _Randy Ninja Randy NINJA-!_

Sometimes Howard wishes _he_ was the Ninja.

Then he stops and thinks about it, and recalls the time he had to play the Ninja for the Monster Drill and when he stepped in as the Ninja when Randy mind-wiped himself and the one time he actually confronted the Nomicon face-to-pages and he wonders if he really **does** wish he was the Ninja.

Because being the Ninja is hard work. He doubts he could do better than Randy.

(But it's still sort of nice to dream.)

…

Randy wonders, sometimes.

He looks over at his best friend, Howard Weinerman, fellow ninth-grader, occasional host for the Tengu, and temporary stand-in Ninja. He smiles a soft smile and turns away, back to the teacher, and wonders if Howard knows that on some occasions he wishes he _wasn't _the Ninja of Norrisville.

He was in shock and awe when he opened that box and discovered that _he_ had been chosen to be the Ninja – him, Randy Cunningham, an average fourteen year old boy with strange purple hair and glittering blue eyes. He didn't immediately register that with this power would come great challenges, challenges that some high school students would never be able to handle.

He handles it.

But then there are the nights where he curls up in bed, mask and Nomicon laid out on his bedside table or his floor, and he presses his back against the wall and brings his knees to his head and holds his head in his hands and chants _I can't be the Ninja, I can't be the Ninja, I can't be the Ninja_….

Because really, how is he supposed to handle things like this? This **responsibility** is going to _kill_ him!

He thinks that maybe, just maybe, he would have been better off as a normal kid, watching the Ninja from the sidelines.

(He knows that none of his classmates could do it as well as he can though, but the dreams help alleviate his stress and panic and _fear_.)

…

They all wonder, sometimes.

The students of Norrisville High School cheer as the Ninja appears, cocky and brave as ever, and saves them from a stanked fellow student or rampaging robots, and yet still some of them hold jealousy and animosity in their hearts.

Bash Johnson, stepson of famous Hannibal McFist, wonders why _he_ couldn't be the Ninja to gain more popularity and fame and his stepfather's praise.

Heidi Weinerman wishes she could reveal the Ninja's identity to gain even more popularity than she has – and to discover why her brother seems to have such a close bond with him.

Julian holds mixed feelings for the Ninja, because while his life has been saved by the mysterious hero he also resents him for ruining his plans with Der Monster Klub.

Theresa wishes she could figure out who the Ninja is so that she could thank him face-to-face instead of face-to-mask.

Bucky is jealous of the Ninja's power and speed and fearlessness, and wishes he could have some for himself.

They all wonder what it is like to be the Ninja. They wish they could have been the Ninja.

(They don't realize that every day, during the attacks the Ninja thwarts, their classmate Randy Cunningham vanishes. They don't realize that they could have been chosen. Sometimes, they watch the Ninja and are **glad** they aren't the Ninja, not knowing one of their classmates suffers through these challenges _every single **day**_.)

…

.

.

.

…

The Nomicon wonders, sometimes.

It allows its pupils in, welcomes them as warmly as possible, even though they often disregard the Nomicon when first discovering they are the Ninja – for this time around.

Randy Cunningham threw it aside, only opening it when he needed help in defeating a robot.

The first lesson began, and the Nomicon started realizing that Randy Cunningham was one of its _best choices** ever**_.

And, truthfully, the Nomicon will be sad to see Randy Cunningham go at the end of it all.

This boy, the finest pupil, was as pure of heart as the first Ninja – perhaps even more so. And the Nomicon just _knows_, innately so, that somehow, during Randy's time as Ninja, the Sorcerer will _finally_ break free and threaten not only the town, but the world.

The Nomicon would be lying if it said it didn't fear for its pupil. It wonders what would happen had someone with a weaker heart been chosen instead.

(And oh, the Nomicon knows – it's made far too many blunders in the past to have made another such mistake. It finally has the right one.

(Often the Nomicon wonders what it would be like if it allowed its pupils to keep their memories of their time as Ninja. And on occasion it wonders what it is like to be **human**.

(But once things change they can never go back, and it doesn't want to risk ruining the delicate balance of the way things have been – the way things are – the way things should always (unfortunately) be.)


	7. mirrors of you

Thank you once more for the positive reviews. We're almost to the end; there's only 10 rules in total. But for now, here's number 7.

Randy Cunningham: Ninth Grade Ninja belongs to Disney and all other associated higher-ups. I'm just a kid playing in their sandbox.

* * *

_7. others are merely mirrors of you. you cannot love or hate something about another person unless it reflects to you something you love or hate about yourself._

Randy loves Theresa's purple hair.

When asked why, he stumbles around for a reason, often claiming "I mean I don't like _her_ – I don't think – but her hair is just so….uh…it's – it's – I dunno I just love it." But internally he knows.

It's because he has purple hair too.

He's not sure whether or not her hair color is natural – the streaks in her bangs are dyed or highlighted or whatever, at the very least – and while his hair color is natural and he's proud of it, her hair makes him feel…not so alone.

It's an odd sentiment, but he doesn't care. He just knows that he loves Theresa's hair.

…

Randy hates Howard's laziness some days.

Of course, he can't be too hard on his friend, not when he has admittedly been a slacker in the past and still is whenever he gets the chance, but there are days where it irritates him to no end.

He only rarely confronts Howard about it, however – namely when they have a big project due that could make or break their grade.

Howard is okay when he blows, too. He knows just as much as Randy that he's lazy.

Randy really, _really_ hates that too though, because if Howard _realizes_ it why doesn't he _stop_ and cut Randy a break?

(Randy thinks he's been getting better, honestly. It's thanks to the Nomicon, really – he'd be a very lazy and slack-prone Ninja without it.)

Howard once admitted that he hates his laziness, too.

It's one of the things they both put on their New Year's Resolutions list that year.

…

Randy doesn't know how to feel about the Nomicon.

The Nomicon, the ancient book of Ninja knowledge and wisdom, is something of an enigma. He can't figure it out.

Often, the lessons it teaches seem to point out his own mistakes, his flaws. Sometimes Randy is grateful for it; other times, he feels extremely self-conscious, like the Nomicon is ridiculing him for things he can barely control.

He hates the Nomicon, and yet he loves the Nomicon, but he can't figure it out quite yet. Surely the Nomicon has its own personality, and surely there is _something_ about that persona that mimics something Randy either hates or loves about himself.

He'll figure it out eventually. For now, the Nomicon remains neutral.

(And honestly, he's glad for it.)


	8. the choice is yours

This one has been written since I started, so I'm updating before school. Again thank you to all you kind reviewers!

Randy Cunningham: Ninth Grade Ninja belongs to Disney and all other associated higher-ups. I'm just a kid playing in their sandbox.

* * *

_8. what you make of your life is up to you. you have all the resources and tools you need. what you do with them is up to you. the choice is yours._

He doesn't know how the thought creeps into his head that night, but it comes, unbidden, and for the rest of the night he has grotesque visions of what could have been – what could be.

Randy is aware of the power behind the Ninja suit, the weapons, the Nomicon itself. It was all crafted from magic, spells, and Tengu feathers. The Tengu was neither good nor evil; it was influenced by its environment, the emotions around it, and magic worked in the same way. Both were dangerous, powerful, unpredictable forces, all infused into the Ninja suit – and the Ninja himself.

His power is used for good, now, but it could have been (or might someday be) used for evil, for the bringing of darkness instead of the dawning of light. Reflecting back on Mac Antfee, should the Nomicon choose the wrong person the Ninja very well could become an instrument of destruction – whether by his own choice, the influence of others, or his own poor mistakes.

And Randy quakes at the enormity of it all, sometimes. He'll curl in on himself and wonder why _he_ is the Ninja, _how can **he** be the Ninja, he's just Randy Cunningham –_

Before he became the Ninja, he wasn't sure what he was going to do in high school. He planned on taking generic classes and earning mediocre grades – enough to get him through school and into a decent college, at least. College? That was _such_ a long ways away, but Randy had always been interested in fighting and ninjas and Japanese culture, and he had thought that maybe he could major in something like Japanese Relations. He would date, he would break up, he would have Howard by his side, maybe eventually he would get married to some nice girl and buy a quaint little house and get a good job and have a kid or two and raise them well and tell them to do well in school so that he could watch them mature into fine young adults, and then have children of their own and start the whole cycle all over again.

Now, though? Even with the prospect of being mind-wiped at the end of his term as Ninja looming overhead, he knew his choices were going to be influenced by whatever happens to him during the rest of his four years. Already, he has been making an effort to better his grades; Howard, too, has been stepping up his game, though mainly at Randy's insistence. Randy is still interested in studying something relating to Japan though – because the thrill of being a ninja, and the skill that comes with it, they won't just leave his memory after his tenure. The memories will be replaced with images of him training in a martial arts studio, perhaps, but the skills will always be there, tucked away in his subconscious.

But then – then the _dreams_ started, that stupid little idea came along, and now he can't help but quiver in fear whenever he thinks about how **dangerous** he could be if he put his mind to it – or if McFist ever planted, like, a mind-control device – or if the Sorcerer got his hands on the Nomicon and the suit….

The Ninja has the tools and skills to become _anything he ever wanted_. And if he wanted to, he could become even more feared than the Sorcerer.

But Randy Cunningham now possesses those tools and skills, too. And he wants only to help and heal and save. He wants to make a positive impact on the lives he touches.

He doesn't yet realize it, but that pure idea that sparked his choice makes him one of the greatest Ninjas to ever don the mask.


	9. where the answers lie

Almost done. Chapter 9/10. Thank you guys for supporting this - and me - through it all.

Again, a little drabble-y, but it's still coherent enough to make sense. (I think.)

Randy Cunningham: Ninth Grade Ninja belongs to Disney and all other associated higher-ups. I'm just a kid playing in their sandbox.

* * *

_9. your answers lie inside you. the answers to life's questions lie inside you. all you need to do is look, listen, and trust._

Oftentimes Randy seeks out the Nomicon for answers. It spits a life lesson out at him in response.

Sometimes Randy is blind enough to return to the Nomicon, seeking answers regarding said life lesson. The Nomicon rarely dignifies this with an answer, instead kicking him straight back into the real world.

Thus, Randy has learned that he can't always rely on the Nomicon for help. So he started turning to technology.

And quickly Randy caught on that even _technology_ can't solve all of life's problems with a click and a save. Especially the questions Randy asks – about his ninja training, about what to do to better help his town, about _is he really doing this right_ and **why did you pick me?**

He lacks answers for a good six months or so. It frustrates him to no end.

…

Finally, the day comes where he is sitting in the Nomicon, meditating, and the answer hits him like a train plowing into a building.

"You're not helping me with all these questions because really, I don't _need_ help!"

The Nomicon hums and glows warmly in response, congratulating its student in the only way it can. Randy leaps into the air and lets out a cheer, because _why did this seem so hard? _It was so easy in retrospect, and he'd been worrying over nothing.

And he continues his ninja training, sitting down and taking _time_ now to sort out some of the questions he has about it before asking the Nomicon for help or reassurance. Every day it gets easier, and there comes a point where Howard starts asking Randy for help with schoolwork because **he finally gets it**.

(Of course, Randy refuses, telling Howard that he's smart, he can figure it out on his own. Howard grunts in response and mutters something about not wanting to, and Randy just laughs because it is so _Howard_.)

Only two things remain unanswered to Randy by the time his sophomore year draws to a close: if he is still doing his job right, and _why_ he was chosen in the first place.

…

Junior year rolls around and Randy begins soul-searching for these answers, as per the Nomicon's instructions. It's a bit tedious and strenuous, and he doesn't have much time for it with all the work he has to balance now, but whenever he has a free moment he looks inside himself and listens to what his heart is telling him on the matter.

By winter break he's answered the first question: he **is** doing it right, and he's always been doing it right, because really _there is no wrong way to be the Ninja_. (Unless you're Mac Antfee, but that's beside the point.) He lets himself relax for a week, enjoying this newfound freedom of _worry_ that had always seemed to follow him around beforehand.

Even so, he still can't help but wonder **why** the Nomicon chose him. This answer is much, much harder to find, despite all the trust he puts in himself, despite how hard he searches for any plausible reason why. It's infuriating.

And yet, it makes sense.

The Nomicon had its reasons, and he has learned by now that the Nomicon is to be trusted, always. So he'll trust the Nomicon with this, and leave it be…for now.

Before he has to go, he'll figure out why he was chosen, one way or another.

(Deep down inside he knows, or at least suspects. He'd heard the Nomicon say it before; he was chosen for his purity of heart. Yet he feels that this isn't the only reason why he was chosen. **Something** happened, something _big_, that set this off ages ago.

(He's forgotten about his time travelling, stored it to the back of his mind. Really, he set off the Nomicon's existence. Of course it would continually seek him out until his time came.

(Innately, subconsciously, he knows that _this_ is the answer he seeks. He just hasn't quite found it yet.)


	10. don't forget this

Last one, and boy is it a doozy.

Thank you so much for reading this and supporting me throughout my journey into this fandom. I hope to write more for RC9GN in the future, but for now here's the final chapter.

Randy Cunningham: Ninth Grade Ninja belongs to Disney and all other associated higher-ups. I'm just a kid playing in their sandbox.

* * *

_10. you will forget all this._

He was probably one of the only Ninjas to actually _know_ that he was to be mind-wiped at the end of his term. It was a bit humbling, in all honesty.

Randy gazed at the box he had laid out, the mask placed securely inside it with little notes he had made to whoever the next Ninja was to be. The mind wipe (when used normally, since that one time he had stupidly done it and the whole Mac Antfee thing didn't count) would leave him with enough residual awareness to place the Nomicon into the box, secure it, and then make his way to his bed to promptly pass out. He'd wake up a few minutes later, everything he experienced seeming like a dream, with false memories in place of when _he'd_ been the one to defeat the monster of the day. Howard stood next to him, faithful as ever despite the anxiety. It would be the first time the Nomicon mind-wiped someone who was not the Ninja, and while he was making Ninja history in that regard it was also something very _un_likely to ever happen again anyway but neither cared so long as the process did nothing to damage their friendship.

After a deep breath, Randy flipped the book open and the two felt light, lighter than air, as their minds were pulled in. They landed not in the hallway like Randy expected, but instead on the mountain where Howard had first managed to crash into the Nomicon during the NomiRandy crisis. They stood, taking in their surroundings, supposing that the Nomicon was being generous and allowing them one last journey through its pages.

"I'm gonna miss this," Randy whispered, not quite sure if it was to himself or to Howard or even to the Nomicon. Either way, Howard patted his back, muttering "I know" under his breath. Despite a few more trips into the mystic book Howard still held animosity towards it, though not as much as he once did.

The Nomicon seemed to buzz around the two, a happy and jovial buzz that lifted Randy's spirits in spite of what he knew was coming. Slowly, a little path formed out of the doodles and scribbles that filled the Nomicon's pages and that were used to communicate with Ninjas. Randy carefully stepped onto it, gaining confidence when it didn't give way, and Howard followed him slowly.

"Believe in the weapon that is in the suit," Randy murmured, reading some of the words on the path. "A ninja must master the art of stealth. Respect is the key that opens all doors. Words can be a more powerful weapon than the sword. The tiger who refuses to get his paws wet catches no fish. The only knowledge a ninja can possess is the knowledge that he possesses no knowledge. A ninja must never endanger the innocent, but he must defend the defenseless. The best way to avoid an attack is to avoid an attack. A ninja without balance will fall. Everything…you taught me…"

He caught a glimpse of the lesson "in order to right the future, you must write the past" then, and he chuckled at the irony of it. He finally understood. He had, in a way, helped the First Ninja create the Nomicon. The book had since been seeking Randy to become the Ninja in order to complete the circle. Randy would have laughed had the revelation not come now, at such a sober time.

Slowly, the hallway formed out of the pages. Howard remained silent, knowing it was not his place to speak, but one little message written on the wall caught his attention. "The ninja and the tengu are forever linked."

Randy glanced back at him, then at the wall, and he smiled. "Yeah," he murmured. "Y'know, Howard, I was the first Ninja to release the tengu since it was imprisoned. The way I returned it to its stone was also unique – it's why I was the first Ninja to have the Tengu Fireball attack, and that alternate suit color and whatever." He chuckled. "And you know, Howard, it wasn't just because you were the closest person around that the tengu chose to possess you when we released it on Spirit Day. For the tengu, it had already met you 800 years ago, and so to find you again was a stroke of luck for it. It's part of the reason the Nomicon let you stick around for so long."

They stood in front of the final door now, the ominous and foreboding door that would wipe this entire experience from their minds. Howard was quiet once more, studying the door but obviously listening intently. Randy, too, was studying the door, until he closed his eyes once more and let a small, slow, sad smile creep over his face.

"But you know what, Howard?" he whispered after another moment's pause. "The Nomicon was on the right track. It didn't consider you a friend, but you also weren't an enemy. You just…you were the key. You are the tengu, I am the Ninja, and no matter what happens after today we'll still be forever linked, someway, somehow."

"Don't get so sentimental on me, Cunningham," Howard muttered, glancing away, but Randy could see tears threatening to break free behind brown eyes. "Even if we won't remember it later…"

Randy smiled again, closed his eyes, and let a single tear slip free and streak down the side of his face. "It's been great, Howard."

"Yeah, Randy. Catch you on the flipside."

The door opened, and light spilled through.

…

But when they emerged they found that they could still remember most of it. Maybe they were a bit hazy on who exactly built the killer robots, but perhaps that was because the Nomicon wanted Randy to enjoy studying under Viceroy, the scientist who was part-time teaching mechanics at Norrisville's community college. Maybe they couldn't quite remember Mac Antfee, or what the Sorcerer looked like, or where exactly the (wonderful beautiful amazing fantastic brilliant _beloved_) Nomicon was now or who they had chosen to be the next Ninja-

Still, Randy Cunningham and Howard Weinerman were the first the Nomicon _allowed_ to retain their memories. After all, Randy was the one Ninja who had mastered his lessons almost as fast as the First Ninja; he was the one who defeated the Sorcerer once and for all; he was the purest of heart.

It still contacted him, sometimes, through little doodles appearing in the air giving helpful hint. It even dropped an occasional actual lesson on its most beloved pupil. It appeared to Howard a few times as well, less often than Randy but enough for the other half of the duo to know that he wasn't forgotten.

The Ninja and the Tengu, forever linked by the pages of the Nomicon, as it was, as it is, as it always will be.

(They'll forget it all, eventually. But the Nomicon won't forget. Their story is forever held in its texts. Someday, maybe another pair will be found that resemble Randy and Howard almost to a tee, and maybe it will share its secrets with them, but no one could ever replace that perfect duo. And anyway, there is still a town to protect and a Ninja to train.)


End file.
